by Michael Foss
At this, Sir Lancelot sighed and the tears fell on his cheeks.
‘Alas, most noble Christian realm,’ he cried, ‘whom I have loved above all other realms, and where I have gotten a great part of my honour, now I must depart in this wise, shamefully banished, undeserved and causeless. But fortune is so variant, and the wheel so movable, there is no constant abiding. Thus found it noble Hector, and Troilus, and Alexander the mighty conqueror. When they were most in their royalty, they alighted lowest. And so fares it by me. But I may live upon my lands as well as any knight. And if you, most redoubted king, will come upon my lands with Sir Gawain to war upon me, I must endure you as well as I may. As to you, Sir Gawain, if you come there, I pray you charge me not with treason or felony, for I must answer you.’
‘Do your best,’ replied Gawain. ‘Therefore, hie you fast that you were gone. And know well that we shall soon come after, and break your strongest castle upon your head. So make no more language, but deliver the queen from you and pick you lightly out of this court.’
Then Sir Lancelot said unto Queen Guenevere in the hearing of all, ‘Madam, now I must depart from you and this noble fellowship for ever. I beseech you, pray for me and say me well. And if you be hard beset by any false tongues, lightly my lady send me word, and I shall deliver you.’
Therewith he kissed the queen and brought her to the king, and took his leave.
And when Sir Lancelot rode out of Carlisle, there was sobbing and weeping for pure sorrow of his departing. So he took his way unto Joyous Gard, but ever after he called it the Dolorous Gard.
After Sir Lancelot had departed from the court for ever, he called his fellowship unto him and asked them what they would do. They answered all wholly together with one voice, that they would do as he would do.
Then wholly a hundred knights that were accorded to go with Sir Lancelot departed with him at once, and made their vows never to leave him for weal nor for woe. So they shipped at Cardiff and sailed into Benwick, which some men call Bayonne and some call Beaune, where the good wine is. For to say truth, Sir Lancelot and his nephews were lords of all France, and of all the lands that longed unto France.
When he was come there, Sir Lancelot stuffed and furnished and garnished all his noble towns and castles. And all the people of those lands came to him on foot and hands, and shortly he called a parliament. Then Sir Lancelot advanced all his noble knights, and first he advanced them of his own blood.
Meanwhile King Arthur and Sir Gawain made a great host ready, to the number of three-score thousand, to go over sea to make war on Sir Lancelot. At last all thing was ready, and so they shipped at Cardiff.
And because Sir Mordred was King Arthur’s son, the king made him chief ruler of all England, and put also Queen Guenevere under his governance. So the king and his host crossed the sea and landed upon France, and there he burnt and wasted, through the vengeance of Sir Gawain, all that they might overrun.
When word of this came to Lancelot there were many opinions among his party. First, Sir Lionel said, ‘My lord, let us keep our strong walled towns until they have hunger and cold, and blow on their nails. Then let us freshly set upon them, and shred them down as sheep in a field, that aliens may take example how they land upon our lands.’
But King Bagdemagus spoke otherwise, saying unto Lancelot, ‘Sir, your courtesy will disgrace us all. It has waked all this sorrow. If they ride thus over our lands, they shall by process bring us all to nought whilst we in holes do hide.’
At this, Sir Galihud with boldness spoke further. ‘Sir, here be knights come of kings’ blood that will not long droop, except they are within these walls. Therefore give us leave to meet them in the field and we shall slay them, so they shall curse the time that ever they came here.’
And then all said at once, ‘For Christ’s sake let us ride out with Sir Galihud, for we be never wont to cower in castles.’
But Sir Lancelot, master and governor, answered them and said, ‘My fair lords, I am full loath to ride out for shedding of Christian blood. Howbeit we will at this time keep our strong walls, and I shall send a messenger unto my lord Arthur to make a treaty. Know you well, fair knights, better is peace than always war.’
Therewith Sir Lancelot sent forth a maiden on a palfrey, with a dwarf that ran by her side, to require King Arthur to leave his warring. As she rode, she met with Sir Lucan the Butler, and asked of him how might she speak with the king.
‘Alas,’ said Sir Lucan, ‘my lord Arthur would love Lancelot, but Sir Gawain will not suffer him. But speed you well, fair maid, for all we that be about the king would that Sir Lancelot did best of any knight living.’
Sir Lucan led the maiden unto where the king sat with Sir Gawain. And when she had told her tale, the water ran out of every eye. All those lords would be full glad for the king to accord with Sir Lancelot, save only Sir Gawain. ‘My lord uncle,’ he said, ‘what will you do? Will you turn again, now you are passed thus far? If so, all the world will speak of your villainy.’
‘Nay, Sir Gawain,’ said Arthur, ‘I will do as you advise me. And yet meseems these fair offers are good. But since I am come so far upon this journey, I would that you give the maiden her answer, for I may not speak to her for pity.’
So the maiden brought answer to Sir Lancelot, that to sue for peace was waste labour. When he heard this, the tears ran down Lancelot’s cheeks. But his noble knights strode about him and said, ‘Wherefore make you such cheer? Think what you are, and what men we are. Let us match them in the midst of the field.’
‘I may no further,’ lamented Lancelot. ‘I needs must defend me.’
Then they held their language, and that night they took their rest. In the dawning, as the knights looked out, they saw the city of Benwick besieged about. On a time in that day, Sir Gawain on a strong steed came before the chief gate with a spear in his hand, crying, ‘Is there none of you proud knights dare break a spear with me?’
With this, Sir Bors rode forth. But Sir Gawain smote him from his horse, and almost had he slain him. Then came forth Sir Lionel, the brother to Bors, but Sir Gawain was so big and had such grace that Sir Lionel he also wounded most sorely. And thus came Gawain every day, champing at the gate, and every day he smote down one knight or other. So they endured half a year, and there was much slaughter of people of both parties.
Then befell a certain day when Sir Gawain roared loud at the gate as before, crying, ‘Where are you now, you false traitor Sir Lancelot? Why hide you within holes and walls like a coward? Look out now, for here I shall revenge upon your body the death of my three brethren.’
‘God help me,’ said Lancelot when he heard this. ‘I am right heavy of Sir Gawain’s words, for now he charges me with a great charge. Therefore I must defend me, or else be recreant.’
Some saddled his strongest horse and some fetched his arms, and all was brought to the gate of the tower. Then Sir Lancelot called from the high walls unto King Arthur, ‘Now, sir king, I have forborne half a year, and suffered you and Sir Gawain to do what you would. I may endure it no longer. Sir Gawain has accused me of treason, and needs must I defend myself.’
‘Sir Lancelot,’ cried up Sir Gawain, ‘descend if you dare. Leave your babbling and come to battle, and let us ease our hearts.’
Then Sir Lancelot armed him and mounted, and got a great spear in his hand. Sir Gawain was ready. The host without stood still all apart, for the covenant was made that there should be no man nigh them, nor deal with them, till the one were dead or yielded.
They went each way a great pace in sunder, and turned, and rushed together like the falling of mighty trees. The knights were so strong, and their spears so big, that the horses might not endure the blows and fell to earth. Then lightly they avoided their steeds, and stood foot to foot, with shields before them, and gave many sad strokes on divers places, and blood burst out on all sides.
Now Sir Gawain had a grace and gift from a holy man that for three hours every day, from nine of the clock t
ill high noon, his strength increased three times, and by this cause Sir Gawain had won much prowess and honour. Thus, when they fought, Sir Lancelot felt the increase of might, and he thought he did battle with a fiend and no earthly man. So he traced and traversed, and covered himself with his shield, and kept his might and his attack during these three hours. But as soon as it was past noon, Sir Gawain had no more than his own might. When Sir Lancelot felt his enemy so come down, he stretched himself up and spoke.
‘My lord Gawain,’ said he, ‘now I feel you have done. And now I must do my part, for many great and grievous strokes have I endured you this day with great pain.’
With this, Sir Lancelot doubled his strokes and gave Sir Gawain so hard a buffet that he fell down flat on his side, and Sir Lancelot withdrew from him.
‘Why do you withdraw?’ Sir Gawain taunted him. ‘Turn, false traitor knight, and slay me. If you leave me thus, when I am whole I shall do battle with you again.’
‘I shall endure you, sir,’ answered Lancelot, ‘by God’s grace. But know well, Sir Gawain, I will never smite a felled knight.’
So Sir Lancelot withdrew into his city, and Sir Gawain was brought softly unto doctors and healthful salves.
For three weeks Sir Gawain lay sick in his tent, with all manner of leechcraft that might be had. As soon as he was cured and might ride, he armed himself at all points and came to the chief gate of Benwick, and gave out in loud voice his challenge as before. All this language Sir Lancelot heard, and he answered, ‘Sir Gawain, I repent of your foul saying. Cease your language. I know well your might, and all that you may do. And, Sir Gawain, you may not greatly hurt me.’
‘Come down, traitor knight,’ shouted Gawain, ‘for I expect this day to lay you as low as you laid me.’
So they did battle again, with great pain and suffering, and blood flowing from many grievous wounds. And again Sir Lancelot felt the marvellous increase of Gawain’s might, and with it so increased his wind and his evil will. But Sir Lancelot hardily endured the three hours. When noon was come and Sir Gawain returned to his own proper strength, Lancelot said to him, ‘Now have I proved you twice, that you are a full dangerous knight and a wonderful man of your might. Now I feel that you have done your mighty deeds, and I must do mine.’
Then Sir Lancelot doubled his strokes again, and smote Sir Gawain on his old wound, so that his brain swooned and he fell to the earth. Anon he awoke and still he waved and thrust at Sir Lancelot, even as he lay on earth, daring him to perform this battle unto the uttermost.
‘I will do no more than I have done,’ said Sir Lancelot. ‘I may not stand to smite a wounded man. God defend me from such a shame.’
He turned him and went his way towards the city, and ever after him came the voice of Sir Gawain, calling him traitor knight and threatening him new battle.
Thus the siege endured. This time, Sir Gawain lay sick near a month before he was well recovered and ready to fight again with Sir Lancelot. But right so tidings came unto King Arthur from England that made the king and all his host remove them out of France.
The Death of Arthur
Sir Mordred, for the time ruler of all England, had letters writ as though they came from beyond the sea telling that King Arthur was slain in battle against Sir Lancelot. Wherefore Sir Mordred made a parliament and called the lords together, and there he made them choose him king. So was he crowned at Canterbury, and held a feast there of fifteen days.
Afterwards he drew him unto Winchester, and there he said plainly to Queen Guenevere that he would wed her, who was his uncle’s wife and his father’s wife. The day was set and the feast was ready, for which cause Queen Guenevere was exceeding heavy. But she durst not discover her heart, so she spake fair and agreed to Mordred’s will.
She desired to go to London, to buy all manner of things for the wedding. And Sir Mordred, because of her fair speech, trusted her well and gave her leave to go. When she came to London, she took the Tower of London and suddenly, in all haste possible, she stuffed it with all manner of victuals, and well garnished it with armed men, and so kept it.
When Sir Mordred knew how he was beguiled, he was angry out of measure. He laid a mighty siege about the Tower, and made many great assaults, and threw great engines upon it, and shot large guns. But he did not prevail, and the queen, for fair or foul, would never trust herself to come in his hands again.
After a time the Bishop of Canterbury, that holy man, said unto Sir Mordred, ‘Sir, will you first displease God and then shame yourself and all knighthood? Though King Arthur is called your uncle, did he not himself beget you upon his own sister? Therefore, how may you wed your father’s wife? Sir, leave this opinion, or I shall curse you with book and bell and candle.’
‘Do your worst,’ answered Mordred, ‘I shall defy you.’
‘I shall not fear me’, said the bishop, ‘to do what I ought to do. Also, you say that Lord Arthur is slain. It is not so, and therefore you will make a foul work in this land.’
‘Peace, false priest’, cried Sir Mordred. ‘If you chafe me any more I shall strike off your head.’
So the bishop cursed Mordred in the most solemn wise. And then he fled, for Sir Mordred sought to have slain him. He went nigh unto Glastonbury, and there he lived as a hermit, in poverty and holy prayers, for well he understood that mischievous war was at hand.
Then came word that King Arthur had raised the siege of Sir Lancelot and was coming homewards with a great host to be avenged upon Sir Mordred. At this, many people drew unto Sir Mordred. It was the common voice among them that with Arthur was none other life but war and strife, and with Sir Mordred was joy and bliss. Thus evil was said of King Arthur, and many that he had made up from nought, and given them lands, said not a good word of him.
Lo, all you Englishmen, see you not what a mischief was here? Would they not hold content with he who was the most king and knight of the world? Lo, thus was the old custom and usage of this land. Have we yet lost or forgotten that custom and usage? Alas, this is a great default of we Englishmen, for nothing pleases us for long.
And so fared many people, that they were better pleased with Sir Mordred than with King Arthur. With a great host that would abide him for better or worse, Sir Mordred drew him unto Dover, to beat his own father from his lands.
After some days, when fair winds did blow, King Arthur came with a bold navy of ships. And Sir Mordred was ready waiting upon his landing. Upon the beach there was launching of boats great and small, all full of noble men of arms. And then there was much slaughter of gentle knights, and on both parties many a full bold baron was laid low.
But no knight could withstand Arthur’s courage, and his men-at-arms fiercely followed him to land, where they put Sir Mordred aback so that he fled with all his people. When this battle was done, and King Arthur went about to bury the slain, he found noble Sir Gawain felled into the bottom of a boat, lying more than half dead.
Then the king took Sir Gawain in his arms, and said most sorrowfully, ‘Alas, Sir Gawain, my sister’s son, here now you lie, he whom I loved most. Now is my joy gone. In Sir Lancelot and you I most had trust and joy, and now I lose you both.’
‘My uncle King Arthur,’ replied Sir Gawain, ‘my death day is come, and all is through my own hastiness and wilfulness. Of all this unhappy war I am the causer. And now you shall miss Sir Lancelot. But, alas, I could not accord with him. Therefore, fair uncle, let me have paper, pen and ink, that I may write to Lancelot a letter with my own hands.’
With the help of the king, Sir Gawain sat up weakly, and he wrote thus:
Unto Sir Lancelot, flower of all noble knights that ever was, I, Sir Gawain, King Lot’s son of Orkney, sister’s son unto the noble King Arthur, send you greeting. On the tenth day of May I was smitten upon the old wound that you gave me before Benwick, and thus I am come to my death day. All the world will know that I, knight of the Round Table, came to death, not by your deserving, but by my own seeking. Therefore I beseech you, Sir Lancelo
t, to return again unto this realm, and see my tomb, and say some prayer more or less for my soul.
Sir Lancelot, for all the love that was ever betwixt us, make no tarrying, but come over the sea in all haste, to rescue our noble king, our lord Arthur. For he is full straitly beset with a false traitor, that is my half-brother Sir Mordred. This I tell you but hours before my death, written with my own hand, and so subscribed with part of my heart’s blood.
Then they both wept, and the king made Sir Gawain to receive his Saviour. So, at the hour of noon, Sir Gawain yielded up the spirit and the king interred him in a chapel within Dover Castle, where yet all men may see his skull with the wound that Lancelot gave him.
While the king was in Dover, anon word came that Sir Mordred had pitched a new field upon Barham Down. On the morn, King Arthur gave chase and harried him with fierce battle, and drove him out, so that Sir Mordred fled unto Canterbury. Then the folk began once again to draw unto Arthur, saying that war upon the king was wrong. Thus the king’s host increased, and King Arthur marched all his party down by the seaside, westward towards Salisbury.
Sir Mordred set out to raise much people about London, in Kent, Sussex and Surrey, and a little to the north from Essex to Norfolk. When the hosts were full and ready to do battle, a day was assigned on a Monday after Trinity Sunday when King Arthur should meet with Sir Mordred on a down beside Salisbury, so that the king might be avenged upon Sir Mordred.
On the night of Trinity Sunday, King Arthur dreamt a wonderful dream. It seemed he sat on a chair bound fast to a wheel, and under him was a hideous deep black water, all full of serpents, worms and wild beasts, foul and horrible. Of a sudden it seemed the wheel turned upsodown and the king fell among the serpents, and every beast took him by a limb, so that the king in his bed cried ‘Help!’